


Hello, I Love You. (won't you tell me your name?)

by Miramise



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Cinderella Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fluff, M/M, Mild Swearing, More Fluff, like a lot of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21880684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miramise/pseuds/Miramise
Summary: Leon doesn't want to go to the ball, but was bullied into it. Chris didn't want to be at the ball, but the man with the beautiful butterfly mask is changing his mind.  (An RE6 version of Cinderella?  Pretty much.)
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title purloined from The Doors. Written for the Bear the Weight, Light My Path zine. Link to zine at end of fic for interested parties.

Leon looked at the stack of papers on his desk and wondered yet again who he pissed off recently. He looked up with bleary eyes as Hunnigan walked towards his desk, wondering if she had more fresh hell to add to the load.

"Don't look at me like that. And no, I don't," she said, clearly reading his expression. "We have more than enough between the two of us."

He winced under a spark of guilt; Hunnigan wasn't spared in this new tidal wave of paperwork. "I'm sorry. Just... if you could explain it to me one last time what this is about?"

As he spoke, Leon noticed she wasn't looking as impeccable as always. He guessed she was feeling the weight of this new bureaucratic nonsense as well.

"Someone decided on a few _changes_ , and both DSO and FOS were affected," she replied. "While not essential, they are still required for the time being."

In other words, superfluous nonsense he and Hunnigan were caught in the middle of. He looked at her and sighed. "Sorry. Know it's not your fault."

"Honestly, you're taking it the best. I should thank you for not looking at me like I'm the Devil reborn." She waved away Leon's indignant look. "Down, boy. I'm a big girl, I can handle it."

"Just let me know if you need help hiding the bodies."

Hunnigan chuckled and walked off to handle her own paper monster. The scritching of pens and clacking of keyboards were the sum total of Leon's existence for a couple of hours. This shattered with Helena's arrival; she plopped herself in a chair next to Leon without even a 'hello'.

"So are you going?"

He had no idea what she was talking about, and few brain cells to spare. "Going to what?" he asked, eyes glued to his monitor.

"The President's Masked Ball. Lots of ambassadors will be there, along with different agency reps."

Oh yes, 'the pretentious party'. "Why would I go to that when I have this _lovely_ mountain of work I could spend time with?" Leon knew he was tired; he hadn't injected nearly enough sass into that as he'd like.

"I heard some BSAA reps will be there. Maybe even Redfield? He's their golden boy after all."

Blue eyes narrowed but never strayed from the glowing screen. "Listen, that's not going to be a thing. You only know because we got drunk and words were said that you swore to secrecy, so let it go. Besides," Leon finally cut his eyes away from the screen to glance at the brunette, "you could go if you're so gung ho about it."

Helena made a face and rose from the chair. "I just said BSAA reps were going to be there. Why the hell would I go to that?"

Oh, right. He forgot Helena wasn't too happy with them since China. "Fine, but some of us still have work to do, so I'll pass." Under his breath Leon muttered, "Nothing of value will be missed."

"Okay, but if anyone needs a break it's you. Anyway, want something from the vending machine?" She watched Leon shake his head and shrugged. "I'll leave you to it then. Good luck getting home before midnight with all that."

Leon grumbled something uncomplimentary, causing Helena to laugh as she left him alone. Soon he was again enveloped in the tedium of reports. When he had trouble seeing the letters on the keyboard, the blond looked up and realised how dark it was.

_'How long have I been at this?'_ He looked at the clock and frowned; over five hours of nonstop working. Leon glanced back at his desk and guessed he might have gotten a third of the way through. Helena was right; no way he'd get back before midnight if he tried to finish this all in one go.

_'Screw it. I'll settle for half and call it a night. I can finish the rest tomorrow.'_ The agent nodded to himself then stretched, feeling his muscles protest having stayed in one position for so long. He knew his friends would joke about him getting older, but honestly all Leon wanted to do was go home and get some sleep before nine pm. An early night sounded wonderful.

That had been the plan, anyway. Too bad a blonde whirlwind decided to kill said plan.

"Leon!"

The agent barely kept himself from jumping a foot into the air. He grasped his heart and wheezed loudly. Leon was convinced it wouldn't be B.O.W.s that killed him. It would be the insanity of the people he called friends that did him in.

"Leon S. Kennedy! Is it true you're _not_ going to the party?" Sherry stood with hands on her hips and eyes daring him to deny it.

"Ball," he corrected. "And yeah, why? It's not a big dea—"

"Yeah, that is _not_ about to be a thing." Leon wondered what was happening in his life as the tiny agent grabbed his wrist and started tugging him towards the bathroom. "You're going. You need to go, so you're going."

"Sherry—" he cut himself off when he spied Helena leaning in the doorway smirking at the pair. "Helena? What did you _do_?"

"Just told her your plans for the evening."

"Dammit, Helena—"

Sherry yanked his wrist, effectively silencing Leon and getting his attention. "Don't blame her, it's your own fault. Now get ready, because You. Are. Going."

_Why_ did Leon get all the bossy ones? "Sherry, unless you can pull off a miracle, I don't have a costume, there's no time to _get_ a costume, I actually carpooled here with Helena so I don't have transportation, and..." the blond trailed off while desperately trying to think of an excuse, "and I have a shitton of reports to do." Not an absolute lie, even if he'd plan to do them in the morning.

Leon thought those were all sound arguments. Sadly, Sherry countered every one.

"I actually hacked part of your pirate outfit1, and I have a mask I was going to wear that I'll lend you." Excuse one and two gone. "You can borrow my car because Jake's picking me up for a date, which is why I'm not going." Excuse three also dead. "And Helena is going to do your reports." Excuse four obliterated.

"I owe her a favour," Helena offered before Leon could even ask.

"Look, Sher— _hey!_ " The younger agent pushed Leon through the men's bathroom door. "You... what... Hey, you're not even supposed to be in here!"

"Hush and let me make you pretty. That won't take long since you're halfway there."

"Sherry!"

Helena chuckled and walked over to Leon's desk, enjoying the torment coming from the other room. She thought it was going to be an interesting night for the older agent, now that Sherry was determined that Leon would attend the party.

"Hold still! You can put the clothes on after I'm done. We'll save the mask for last."

"Sherry, what are... that's not... _SHERRY BIRKIN, PUT THAT EYELINER DOWN!_ "

An interesting night indeed.

ᶕϡ—}——

The President's ball was turning into an elegant, colourful affair. Some attendees chose to wear full costumes, others wore only a mask and classic evening wear. Regardless of which, all the masks were extravagant, some running the gamut from merely pretty to ostentatious.

A few were just straight tacky.

In a shadowed corner, hiding away from all the glitz, Chris kept to his own company as he counted down the minutes to when he could leave. He opted for a tux, but Claire had picked his mask for him after he said he'd just wear a bandanna with eyeholes and call it a day. It was an elaborate mask with brown feathers surrounding the eyes, black feathers making up the rest, and horns near the temple. The stylized minotaur mask fit in perfectly.

Too bad it made Chris's face itch.

"Are you going to stand there all night?"

Chris bit down a groan at seeing his sister standing in front of him, disapproval flowing from her in waves. Her own costume was even more eye-catching with a red and blue evening gown paired with a glittery Wonder Woman mask that was topped with black feathers for the hair. She appeared quite comfortable in her outfit, more so than Chris.

"I was forced to be here, so I'm here. Nobody said I had to socialise as well," he muttered.

"That... you... you're impossible." Claire tossed her hands in the air. "Really, you get invited—"

"Forced."

"—to an event hosted by _the president_ , and you sulk in the corner. Are you sure we're related? Don't answer that," she cut in when Chris opened his mouth. "Just... at least go sample the food. Do that much. Who knows when we'll eat something as fancy as this again?"

Dark eyes rolled hard. "It's food, big whoop. I bet one of Barry's steaks would hold up to any of this fifty dollars-for-a-cracker crap."

"Hey, as long as it's not _my_ fifty dollars, I say go nuts." Claire made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go, or I'll tell Jill on you."

Doing as she said was less effort than fighting, so Chris grunted and went to the nearest food table. It all looked very artistic and would probably hold him less than a pb&j sandwich. The captain sighed and decided to get something to drink instead when he noticed a male figure slinking in from a side entrance. That the person arrived in such a clandestine manner was suspicious; Chris told himself he should get closer just in case he was up to something. That _was_ the story, until Chris got a better look at the man.

Yeah, Chris wasn't good at lying to himself anyway.

Dark leather boots stopped at the knees, leading to equally dark pants that Chris felt were poured directly over those long legs. The white pirate's shirt lay open enough to show a lovely patch of smooth skin over nicely defined muscles. His eyes continued up to see a sharp jawline and lips that looked great for kissing—was that lip gloss? It looked unreasonably good on him. Though mostly obscured, his hair was brushed back along the right and reflected pale in the light. Everything else was hidden behind one of the most beautiful masks Chris had seen that night.

Black, intricate lace fell over the eyes without benefit or need of eyeholes. Chris now understood what Claire meant when she explained 'romantic goth' to him. On the right side of the mask, a butterfly's wing of silver filigree lace. Three blue gemstones adorned the top of the wing, while a tiny gem dangled from a chain at the bottom. In the shadowed area the man stood, the metal shone as it randomly caught flashes of moonlight coming from the window.

The man's build put Chris in the mind of a dancer. Coupled with the delicate appearance of the mask gave the stranger an ethereal aura about him.

Chris had never seen him before. He felt familiar all the same.

Without conscious thought, Chris's feet crossed the distance between him and the stranger. The closer he got, the more beautiful the mask became as the details came into full view. Now the captain could see a soft glow in the eyes behind the black lace, though the colour was still hidden.

Chris decided to borrow a page from his sister's book and take a chance. The stranger presented a beautiful mystery, and Chris wasn't sure he could live with himself if he didn't at least say hello.

ᶕϡ—}——

If he had his way, Leon would happily spend the rest of the night hidden away in this dimly lit alcove. He remembered another reason why he didn't want to come. All these people with obscured faces would make identifying someone a nightmare. Plus some of the masks sent his thoughts to dark places. It was a security nightmare and would lead to some heavy drinking to try and sleep tonight.

The blond whirled when he felt someone approach his hiding spot. A plethora of excuses were already half-formed on his lips to help him escape before he realised who it was. Despite wearing a tux and the mask covering most of his face, Leon could still recognise Chris Redfield in a heartbeat.

"Oh thank god, someone sane," he muttered.

Chris's mouth tilted upward. "I take that to mean you're not a fan of gaudy costume parties?"

"Not one bit. I could be at home enjoying a beer and watching a movie, but instead, I got bullied into attending by people who think I need to socialise more." Leon waved his hand around. "But who wants to socialise in this? It's just a lot of double talk, backstabbing, or boot-licking. And if you're really unlucky, it's all three at once."

The sound of the brunet's genuine laughter caused a flutter in Leon's stomach. He didn't know the last time he'd heard Chris laugh so freely, and never because of Leon himself.

"I have to agree. I was forced here myself. Some of the BSAA were invited, and a friend told my sister. Next thing I know, I'm here instead of at home watching a game." Redfield shrugged before leaning against a wall close to where Leon was standing. "Although it's not so bad, now."

The mask hid Leon's surprise. Since when had Chris ever moved that close to him outside of a fight? And sweet mercy, did he get a new aftershave? Leon was fairly certain he'd remember if Chris had smelled this good before. Then again, 'Eau de Zombie' wasn't exactly a great cologne on anybody.

"Oh? What makes this 'not so bad'?" the blond asked. As far as he was concerned, the _only_ good thing about this was getting a chance to talk to Chris without some kind of argument or mission.

"Well for one, I'm talking to you."

Leon felt grateful the alcove was dark enough to hide his glowing cheeks. "I don't know if that's enough to make this worth going to," he mumbled.

"Getting a chance to talk to a beautiful man is worth a lot."

Chris was going to make Leon's brain implode and kill him. This was how the blond would die, via a flirtatious BSAA golden boy. This is what Leon thought until Chris's next words dropped a heavy ball into his stomach.

"Sorry, I didn't even introduce myself. Chris Redfield, BSAA." He smiled in a way that sped up Leon's heart, which he _really_ needed to calm down. "And who might I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

Just when the hell did Chris 'punch boulders for breakfast' Redfield become so smooth? More importantly, Leon realised that Chris had no idea who the blond was. This left a multitude of questions storming in his head. Would Chris be pissed? Disappointed? Insulted? Think it was a joke? One thing was certain, Leon absolutely did not want Chris to stop talking to him. And if that meant pretending to be someone else—

"Scott."

—then so be it.

"Well, Scott. I hadn't planned on staying, but," the smile Chris gave shone bright and sincere even in the shadows, "I wouldn't mind staying if you kept me company."

This would end so poorly. His instincts were screaming at Leon to stop this. But he didn't... he _couldn't_. It might be the only time Chris would ever be so comfortable around the blond and Leon didn't want to lose that. Just a night to finally be on good terms without looming threats or blood and death surrounding them. One night, and he could cherish the memories with him through lonely nights of knowing he would never get more.

The inevitable guilt and self-loathing could wait until tomorrow. For tonight he was Scott, and he would enjoy the company of one Chris Redfield.

ᶕϡ—}——

The next few hours passed in a blur of contentment Leon hadn't experienced in a long time. The two found another alcove with seating and chatted as old friends would. Leon let slip a few vague things about himself he was sure wouldn't give the game away. Chris in turn talked about his job in the BSAA, his friends and family, and things he did in his spare time. Leon was familiar with most of it, though it came through in a new light as Chris spoke with a rare note of happiness.

Then the music changed, and Chris grinned while standing to offer Leon his hand.

"Not really a dancer, but I know this one. Care to join me?"

"...why not?" Leon took the proffered hand, letting Chris pull him smoothly to his feet. They both swayed and moved to the music in their little corner. Chris's hand felt warm against the small of Leon's back, who didn't resist when the brunet pulled him closer. Their lips move close, each breathing the other's air. For a moment, only the two of them existed in a bubble held by the beautiful melody surrounding them..

The cacophony of Leon's phone startled them both.

Cursing, Leon stepped away, hand reaching for the mood killer. When he saw the ID he winced. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," he said, motioning that he would need to step away.

"Work, right? I know how that is. Go ahead, I'll be here," Chris said, waving for Leon to go around the corner.

"Thanks." The blond quickly walked out of earshot into an outer hall with no foot traffic. Soon as he was alone, Leon pulled his mask off and flipped the phone open. "Kennedy."

"I'm sorry, Leon." Hunnigan looked regretful. "I know Agent Birkin convinced you to go to the party, but we have an emergency and you're the closest agent. And discretion is the main priority."

Of course, work. Leon was neither surprised nor mad, just sadly resigned. Zombies waited for no one. "I understand. Send me the info while I get out of here."

"Will do. Call me when you reach your destination." Hunnigan switched off. Now Leon faced a problem. He would have to come clean and explain everything to Chris. It was either that or just be a complete jerk and leave. That was...

...not a bad idea, even if it meant being that jerk.

"Sorry, Chris. Maybe it will be a nice memory for you too," Leon whispered. He left his mask on a nearby table so Chris would hopefully know 'Scott' had left and not to wait for him. His fingers traced the edge of the butterfly wing once, then turned and left as quietly as he came, the mask catching the light from the windows.

ᶕϡ—}——

"I don't want to talk about it."

Those were the first words out of Leon's mouth when he went into the office three days later. The mission was a shitshow. He owed Sherry a new mask. And all Leon wanted to do was drink a bottle of anything hard and sleep for a week.

"No fair!" Helena complained. "I had to do your reports."

"You can take that up with Sherry since she was the one who convinced you." Leon tossed his jacket over his chair. "And thanks to that last mission, I probably have _more_ reports than before. So not in the mood today, Harper."

"Fine. I'm definitely talking to Sherry. I'm owed gossip somewhere. She can tell me how her date went." Helena waved as she left. Now alone, Leon banished all other thoughts and focused on his pile of reports. It was tedious work that became his entire existence up until a familiar mask was placed on top of his keyboard. The monotony of the reports left Leon too drained to feel any fear when he dragged tired eyes upward to see Chris Redfield in front of his desk.

"For as long as I've known you, I never knew your middle name was Scott."

Leon only shrugged. He wondered if this is what it felt like to face the guillotine, a calm acceptance of the end. "It's just a name. I don't use it that much."

"Hm." Chris took a closer look at the agent, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes. "You look tired."

Leon felt that to be the understatement. He absently gestured to the reports cluttering his desk. "All of this was from the last mission I had."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that after the fact." Another frown. "We could have helped."

The agent felt too tired, too _empty_ to play any more games. "Just... say what you're really here about, Chris. Or just punch me and be done. I want to finish these, go home, and drink myself into a mini coma, so just get it over with."

An unreadable expression appeared on Chris's face. "Just tell me one thing. Was any of that night real?"

"Was... what? Was it... how..." Leon's face twisted, his anger simmering just beneath his apathy. "You think I'd be that cruel? You think so little of me that... _fuck you, Redfield!_ " The barest thread of control kept the agent from shouting. "That was the only time I could talk to you and it not turn into an argument! The one time it was okay for me to not watch every word coming out my mouth in case we set each other off again." He slapped a hand on his desk, uncaring of the reports falling to the floor. "Yes, I screwed up. I should have told you, but I wanted just one night. One lousy night that I could remember it was okay to be with you when I know that's never going to happ— _mmph!_ "

Anger, words, and more than a few brain cells were short-circuited when warm lips crashed against his own. Strong hands grabbed Leon's arms and nearly dragged him across the desk as Chris deepened the kiss. A flicker against his lips left the blond too dazed to do anything but let a seeking tongue inside to slide against his own. It was a moment before Leon recognised the soft, desperate moan as his own. Only a need for air pulled him away to stare at the brunet.

Confusion, thy name is Redfield.

"Wha... what did you... why?"

"I've been attracted to you for a while," Chris admitted, "but never thought it would go anywhere. Meeting 'Scott', finding out it was you... well, thought I might have a chance after all."

A faint blush spread across Leon's face. Brain filter crashed as he blurted out, "I'm not wearing the mask so you can talk to Scott." Leon immediately wondered if a zombie ate his brain when he wasn't looking.

"Scott was nice, but I prefer seeing _your_ face." Chris smiled, and Leon wondered if his heart would forever flip-flop every time he saw it. "So, wanna go grab some coffee?"

Leon glanced at the reports on his desk, then grabbed his jacket and jumped over the pile. "Coffee sounds fantastic." He grabbed the mask before walking next to Chris. "And I should give this back." He looked at it for a second, fingers tracing the wing. "Or not. I mean, when you think about it, might be some magic in it."

"Magic?" Chris tilted his head with a bemused smile. "Like a fairytale?"

The mask glinted in his hands. Leon thought about it, then shook his head.

"Naw." He set the mask back on his desk. "Let's go. I could use a cup of coffee right now." The two left together, Chris going so far as to slide his hand into Leon's back pocket, to the blond's amusement.

A little while later, Leon's desk was still covered in scattered reports. A passing agent noticed a pretty, silver butterfly fluttering in Leon's office, and opened the window to let it fly away.

♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: Reference to Leon's pirate outfit in RE6, for the curious. **↑**
> 
> If you enjoyed this, consider checking out the zine, which is free and sfw. Since I'm not sure on Ao3's specific rules for this kind of link, it's just the text url to copy/paste into the address bar.  
> http://www.mediafire.com/file/1v3dpkyuuczuyrc/BearTheWeightZineDigital.pdf/file


	2. concept fanart!

[Aideryn](https://aiderynddraig.tumblr.com/) made this gorgeous concept art of the mask for me when I got stuck. Please send them all the praise for this stunning piece, which really helped me to finish this story!


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